


Going Down

by SlutWriter



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asian-American Character, Cosplay, Cum in hair, Cum-Wearing, Dirty Talk, F/M, Middle-Eastern Character, Raceplay, Sweat, hijab
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 08:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlutWriter/pseuds/SlutWriter
Summary: During an accidental elevator encounter, cosplaying partygoer Jason Tham discovers that his Muslim friend Yasmin is much less orthodox than he thought.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 115





	Going Down

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a commission.

The elevator leading down to the hotel lobby had one mirrored wall, and Jason Tham used this to look at his reflection and take a final, deep breath. His destination - the ‘Sexy Afterparty’, an underground cosplay event that wasn’t officially on the convention books, was bound to be flowing with alcohol and risque costumes that weren’t permitted on the conventional floor because they showed too much skin.  
  
Jason was dressed the part, standing a shade below six feet, he hadn’t skipped the gym in over two months, and the tight costume was at least a little flattering as a result. It was tight enough that the abdominal definition and shapely V-tapered shoulders and waist he’d slaved and dieted to achieve could be appreciated. ““Ladies… say hello to Asian Spider-Man!” he announced with pizazz to no one in particular, testing the phrase as he looked in the mirror. He shook his head. “Alright, that’s dogshit,” he chuckled to himself, and decided he should just let his physique do the talking - or at least remove the mask before announcing that he was the Vietnamise second coming of Peter Parker.  
  
Jason had attended the convention with a friend, a Persian girl named Yasmin who was a fellow university student. He had not told Yasmin about this after-party. She was painfully shy and wore a hijab with religious regularity, plus she was always concerned what her family would think about her attending an event with so many non-Arabs. But Yasmin loved costume design, and was an excellent seamstress. So she wanted to see the costumes, and thus they’d planned the trip. Jason thought Yasmin was beautiful - her facial features were perfect and her figure, or as much of it as she revealed in her very orthodox clothing, hinted toward the voluptuous - but he’d refrained from hitting on her. She would never date anyone outside of her own race and background - this was just something he knew from instinct.   
  
The forthcoming sexy party would provide him the outlet he needed for a hookup, about which Yasmin would have no knowledge since they were in separate hotel rooms. His on the twelfth floor, hers on the fourth. He checked his watch. Nearly midnight. The after-hours booze-fueled party would just be starting up. He pulled at the sweat-sticky fabric of his costume. The hotel was in an old-style building and the air conditioning was on the fritz.  
  
 _Ding._  
  
The elevator stopped… but not at the ground floor. Jason’s hopes immediately perked up as he saw a delightfully snacky bronze-skinned beauty in a Mortal Kombat outfit slide slide into the elevator. Another cosplayer in a hotel full of them, no doubt headed to the same after-hours spot.  
  
The new arrival was dressed as a mix of new and old-school Jade, complete emerald-colored fighting staff and a risque open-chested leotard, her breasts held in place only by spaghetti-thin criss-crossing straps. Judging from the way her caramel-colored flesh bulged in this framework, she seemed a perfect fit for the role. This was not a costume meant for the convention floor - it was a risque and body-confident garb that bordered on fetishistic, no doubt created just for the sexy hook-up party. The wearer also had great skin and graceful, well-proportioned limbs that matched the exotic appearance of the character; long eyelashes, and a green hood pulled tight in a manner reminiscent of a headscarf, providing an almost Middle Eastern aesthetic that was…  
  
Wait.  
  
Behind his mask, Jason blinked and narrowed his eyes.  
  
_Wait just a minute_ , he thought. _Those eyes. Those hips. The skin color. The way the face and hair covering frames her nose and forehead. I’ve seen that all before, a million times!_  
  
The young woman turned to look at him as the door slid closed, leaning her unwieldy staff against the wall. Jason stood totally still, unsure what to do. There would be no doubt now. It was his devout Muslim female friend, Yasmin! Yasmin, who abstained from any alcohol! Yasmin, who blushed furiously whenever anything even slightly sexual came on the television. Yasmin, who had told him that she expected she would meet a nice arabic man and settle down to raise a family after she finished school.  
  
She was dressed like a total cosplay thot, on the prowl for after-hours cock!  
  
Not only that, the stuffy heat in the hotel was causing her costume to stick to her like a second skin! He could see beads of perspiration glistening on her skin, twinkling in the artificial light of the lift, individual droplets percolating in the valley formed by her breasts. He could _smell_ her - both her perspiration and, amazingly, more than a little waft of alcohol. Yasmin had apparently been sampling the hotel mini-fridge before departing for the sexy party. This, too, seemed impossible, considering he’d never once seen her drink - it was against her religion, he assumed - but the proof was right in front of him… and currently sending a flirtatious glance his way, so unlike any he’d seen her make before.  
  
 _She doesn’t know it’s me_ , Jason realized. His eyes were covered by the Spiderman mask, which partially obscured his vision but left him with enough to realize that Yasmin was looking at his skin-tight costume with a _very_ prospective eye. _Jesus Christ_ , he thought. _Is she checking out my dick?_  
  
“Mmm, are you going to the party?” she flirted, and her quavering, flirty voice was so different from the shy and hesitant persian girl he knew. Her mouth was muffled by her own emerald-colored ninja mouthguard, but the words were clear enough and the voice familiar. “I was going to try to find a hot guy to hook up with at the party… but it looks I found one right here!”  
  
 _You big-titted slut_ , Jason couldn’t help but think. He was just not getting his first look at the enormous, sweaty knockers Yasmin had been hiding in the flowing black body stockings and gowns she wore on most occasions. _You act all observant when we’re out together but now you’re ready to suck some dick!_  
  
Her beautiful, dark almond-shaped eyes were zeroing in on the rising bulge in the crotch of his costume. Jason still didn’t say anything. She had know way of knowing it was him. He wasn’t in the habit of wearing skin-tight bodysuits on most occasions, so she didn’t know his physique. She moved forward and pressed up against him, her round boobs squishing against his chest in their costumed confines as she licked her lips.  
  
“Want to know how an arab girl sucks cock?” she whispered, giving him a wink. “I’m finally away from my family so I can really let loose. What race are you, Spider-Man? White? _Black_?” She reached down to rub his cock through his suit, gripping the shaft. She seemed almost inappropriately excited about the prospect of his racial background being different than hers.  
  
“Vietnamese,” Jason blurted.   
  
Yasmin at first looked intrigued, and prepared to move forward… but then her eyes narrowed... and then widened. Jason watched as he mind, and consequently her face, went through a range of crazy emotions. “W-wait!” she gasped. “Jason!? Is that you?”  
  
Figuring the subterfuge was over, Jason pulled off his mask and saw Yasmin’s beautiful eyes widen a third and final time as her suspicions were confirmed. “I had no idea you were into this sort of thing!” he told her, then gestured toward her costume. “This is the sluttiest thing I’ve ever seen you wear!”  
  
“Oh, Jason!” she hand-waved, and the warbling sound in her voice confirmed his suspicion that she’d been drinking. “Sometimes a girl just has to… let loose!” And amazingly, her hand was back on his cock, massaging it through the web-printed costume fabric.   
  
Jason bit his lip and hissed. “Fuck! Yasmin… you were always so… reserved! But now-” She pressed up against him and he felt the wetness of her sweat sizzling on his skin. The lack of air conditioning had done a number on both of them, but it was especially pronounced on her smooth, where individual droplets seemed to dance and fizz as she rubbed against him.  
  
“Mmm, let’s see what you’re packing,” she purred. “I’m so tired of arab guys! I want some Asian cock!” Jason wheezed out a breath in surprise and found himself both turned on and utterly scandalized. Yasmin was acting so different! She had a whole secret side he’d never seen while being platonic friends, almost like she’d been hiding it from him. It was hard to describe how it made him feel - it wasn’t anger precisely, more the sense that she was a _bad girl_ and needed to be “punished” appropriately.  
  
He reached out to slide a hand between her shapely thighs and it immediately became oiled up with sweat that was soaking through her costume.  
  
“You’re soaked!” he hissed, almost accusing her. “Is it because you’re dressed like such a slut, in that leotard with your tits hanging out? It’s so skin-tight on your pussy and in the crack of your ass it’s like it’s painted on! And it’s drenched with sweat!” He took in a deep breath and savored the miasma of persian pussy that was permeating the elevator. “You smell like you’re in heat!”  
  
Yasmin let out a gasp. “D-don’t say that!” she objected, but her hands weren’t stopping their attention, and she didn’t seem to be truly upset. Jason’s suit as one piece, he would have to unzip the top and pull his arms out, stripping it down to the waist to free his cock - but he judged it would be worth it. The elevator was idling, but at the late hour there was a chance they wouldn’t be discovered. Even if they were, that danger only added to the excitement.   
  
“You like it, don’t you? That sweaty arabic pussy of yours broadcasting to everyone around you that you want some cock?” Jason seethed. He had his costume down around his waist, baring his chest, which was quite sweaty as well and a fine canvas for her to run her hands over. His hand went between her legs more forcefully and found the cleft of her pussy. He mashed his palm firmly against her sex and she moaned and leaned into him. Her sweat-soaked breasts smeared on his bare chest.  
  
“Lift your arms!” he ordered. When she hesitated, more out of incomprehension than anything else, he repeated the instruction, more loudly. Yasmin’s Jade costume had a pair of long emerald-colored gloves that went up to mid-bicep, but her armpits were totally bare, and as she lifted her arms, Jason saw perspiration absolutely soaking each cupola in droplets that scintillated atop the silky skin there, very slightly darkened with razor stubble. A new waft of female scent blew into his face as she exposed herself and blushed deeply.  
  
“You smell like a whore, you nasty bitch,” Jason growled, and he loved saying it, and he knew from her moaning, lip-biting reaction that she loved hearing it. He moved toward her and their bodies came together; his penis was rock-hard and exposed and she pulled aside the crotch of her costume to grant him access. He slid into her molten wetness, lifting one leg under the crook of the knee, feeling his abdomen press against her upraised and plump thigh.  
  
She gasped. He growled. She reached up and pulled off her headscarf, letting a cascade of perfumed black hair fall free, a further act of transgression against her orthodox and modest life. “God… I… doing it with a non-Arab man feels… so good!” she hissed, and her lips found his earlobe. “From now on… you can do this to me… whenever you want!”  
  
The wet slap of their sweaty bodies reverberated in the elevator. “From now on I want to see your hair,” Jason breathed. “No more wearing a hijab around me. Save that for your cousins and your family. I get to see all of you! I know you want to show me, you slut.”  
  
“Yes!” Yasmin hissed. “I… I don’t care… I’ll do whatever you like!” Her voice was becoming strained as his cock was churning up her wet, gripping pussy in ways she’d never experienced. “Tear it off. Burn it! You can jerk off inside it and make me wear it in front of my brothers and cousins for all I care!” Her eyes were shut as she confessed her submissive feelings, and the nastiness of her words was quickly driving their short but intense encounter to a climax.  
  
Jason grunted “Take my cum you fucking whore!”, not just because it was what he felt but because he thought it was what she wanted to hear, and in this he was proven correct as they went over the edge together. She clutched him desperately as their bodies spasmed; he pulled out until his bulging cocktip was wedged between her pussy and the crotch of her costume, unloading several thick spurts of cum directly into the crotch of her jade green leotard.  
  
“On your knees,” he breathed. “Come on, come on!” He wasn’t done yet, and she dropped down desperately and submissively, looking up at him with plaintive, large, almond-shaped eyes as he jerked out the last of his cum onto her forehead and into her black hair, leaving gooey white streaks. The shining, raven charms she’d kept covered from every man were being absolutely blasted with his nut!   
  
“Oh, fuck yes!” she groaned, in a voice that he would have said was uncharacteristic up until a few moments ago. “Cum in my hair! Mark me!” She certainly didn’t have to ask twice, and he spurted until his balls were drained, leaving a lattice of cum ropes all over her scalp. Then, as they were both breathing hard and recovering, she collected her headscarp and wrapped it back into place, sealing his cum inside. Both her gorgeous black hair and her previously-untouched pussy were new soaking in his sperm.  
  
She rose and leaned against him, unsteadily. “Let’s go to the party,” she whispered, their hearts beating together. “I’ll walk around covered in your cum and _nobody_ will know.”  
  
“You get off on hiding stuff, don’t you?” Jason half-teased, and she gave him a knowing look and turned up the corner of her mouth before leaning in to give him a kiss that was full of tongue.  
  
The possibilities for the night - and the future - seemed endless.


End file.
